


Dressing the Part

by cobain_cleopatra



Series: Little Crow Oneshots [11]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Dishonored AU, Fluff, Grumpy Daud, M/M, Sexual Tension, Snarky Corvo, whaler Corvo, younger Corvo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobain_cleopatra/pseuds/cobain_cleopatra
Summary: Corvo, Daud and Thomas return to Rudshore to find their attire for the Boyle Party.





	Dressing the Part

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago for a oneshot, but never ended up posting it. Thought it would be a nice way to cut up the break I've been having for the holidays, before I continue with the main story.
> 
> Hope you enjoy x

“Slackjaw? The same Slackjaw we haven’t caught a peep of for almost ten years?”

“Yeah.”

“And you just sat down with him for a nice chitchat?”

“No. He said he’d cut my head off if I went near the Distillery again.”

“I’m amazed your head’s still on your shoulders anyway, to be honest. With the amount of shit you manage to get into.” Rulfio raised one of the masks to his face. It was in the shape of a whale, or maybe a hagfish. Either way, it was hideous. He peered at Corvo through its eyes. “Tell me again about this whole business with Bunting’s chair. It certainly sounds adventurous.”

“I’m never talking about it again.”

Rulfio chuckled, and tossed the mask back into the chest. “But you still got the invitation, didn’t you?”

“The Admiral has it. I’ll get it back before we go.” Corvo leaned on the desk, drinking in the familiar, comforting sight of Rudshore’s main office.

He listened idly as Rulfio began to rummage through the chest, which held their hoard of various souvenirs taken from missions and marked nobles, in case they ever found themselves in need of infiltrating an occasion. Such as the Boyle party.

Invitations retrieved, all they had left to solve was their dress for that evening. Bunting, Crawford and Lord Estermont were all men of high standing; if Corvo wanted any chance of getting into the manor, he would need to look the part, as would Daud and Thomas. Luckily, Rudshore had amassed an admirable collection of wealthy, jewel-studded attire over the years.

 _Courtesy of the kleptomaniacs among them_ , Daud always joked.

“Don’t know why they’re making me go tonight.”

“Neither do I. Surely they should send someone else,” Rulfio said. “Aren’t you supposed to pass for Bunting all night? How in the Isles–”

“It’s only to get past the gate guard. Once I’m in, I’m in.”

“And then that tongue of yours will get you into trouble _inside_ the house. Especially a house like the Boyles’.”

“No more than yours would. I offered you up to come instead of Thomas.”

“You little shit.”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway. Daud said it was a bad idea.”

“Thank the Outsider’s cock for that. I hate parties.” Rulfio flung one of the masks towards him, Corvo barely catching the edge.

He examined it, the replica of a stag’s head, and tried to imagine Daud wearing such a thing. “For Thomas. Not Daud.” Corvo laid it down on the desk.

“Hmm, looks like something Estermont might wear. I’m almost sorry I won’t get to see how you three flout your way through the evening,” Rulfio remarked. “But, like I said. I hate parties, always have.”

“I hate parties, too. They’re still sending me.” Corvo would have added an _it’s not fair_ if it didn’t sound so petulant.

“You don’t know you hate them, you’ve never been to one. You might enjoy yourself.” Corvo shot him a pointed look, and Rulfio waved him off. “Yes, yes, alright. I suppose you are an unsociable bastard. And crude honesty like yours doesn’t sit well with the upper classes. It’s all slander and silver spoons with that lot.”

“You’d hate Pendleton, then.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. From what you’ve told me, the man sounds far too uptight. So uptight, I imagine if you shoved coal up his arse, he’d be shitting out diamonds a week later.”

Corvo closed his eyes at the image. “Can’t believe you were ever a noble.” And in a rare moment of sentimentality, he added, “I’ve missed you.”

Rulfio looked over, grin soft and delighted, before it turned predictably shitty. “Well, I’ve had a blissful few weeks without you. So quiet. Peaceful, you could say. And then back you come, needing this rubbish,” he swept an arm towards the crate, overflowing with costume, “and the calm bloody flees at the sight of you. The pups were a nightmare this morning, and they’ve been tolerable up until.”

“The hounds?”

“The novices.”

“Daud’s the reason they’re wound up.”

“Suppose you have a point.” Rulfio walked over, lugging a selection of masks in his arms. He deposited them down beside Thomas' mask. “Little fucks could barely contain themselves when they saw he was back. It’s quite sweet, really.”

“Think Daud disagrees.” Corvo motioned to the glass doors, and Rulfio smirked at the scene behind.

Their leader was crowded by three or four novice recruits, all unaffected by his stern expression as they barraged him with questions. Thomas was at his side, gently trying to usher Fisher away, but the young girl soon began to quarrel with him. Daud started pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He’s happy he’s back.”

“Happy? He looks like he’s about to toss a grenade in the middle of them.” Rulfio gave Corvo’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “Which mask for him, then. I know you’ve got Piero’s scrap metal one already.”

“Don’t remind me. I hate that thing.”

Corvo inspected them all. Most were absurd, excessively decorated, and in the shape of some animal or other. A peacock, an ox. Corvo swore one of them was supposed to be a rat; poor taste, he thought, given the city’s current circumstances.

“I’m going to have to go to their rescue,” he heard Rulfio sigh from beside him. “Last thing I need is bits of Fisher splattered through the hallway, because I certainly won’t be cleaning it up.” His footsteps trailed away. The familiar, obnoxious creak of the double doors as Rulfio left brought a smile to Corvo’s face, while he continued to search.

There was one mask, he supposed, that might work. No replica of a creature’s face, but a more simple design; dark red, a similar shade to Daud’s coat. Corvo ran his fingers over the ornate gold patterns beneath the eyes. This, he could see Daud wear.

The steps that approached were too heavy to be Rulfio’s, and they were accompanied by lighter, quicker paws. Esma hadn't left Daud’s side since he'd stepped back into the Flooded District.

Corvo offered the mask over his shoulder. “This one.”

He heard an unconvinced grunt behind him. “You’re sure?”

Corvo nodded, and turned to watch Daud slide the mask down over his hair to cover his eyes. The lower part of it curved to follow the line of his cheekbones. It looked better than Corvo had expected it to. And, glancing down at the rest of him, Corvo suddenly realised why the novices outside had been so fervent with their questions.

The noble’s jacket Daud adorned matched the mask’s colour perfectly, and the seams of it hugged his shoulders and trailed down beyond his hips. The collar of the shirt underneath was pulled high, to fit just below his jawline.

Corvo had never cared much for noble dress before now.

“You’re blushing.” Daud frowned, peering closer. “You are,” he said, with more certainty.

“No.” Corvo glared at the floor, feeling the treacherous heat across his cheeks. “I’m not.”

A gloved hand came to move his gaze back up, and Corvo let his eyes wander back over the pull of fabric down Daud’s arms. He felt unworthy in comparison, still dressed in his plain clothes from the pub.

He surrendered a little, and trailed his hand up Daud’s forearm. The jacket’s fabric was robust and rich beneath his fingers. “Suits you,” he admitted quietly.

“The mask?”

“All of it.” Corvo tried not to smile. “More than the Overseer robes did, at least.”

“I’ll take small mercies where I can.” Daud pushed the mask back up, and off, to examine it more closely. “This one, then?”

Corvo nodded, and gave Daud another glance over as Esma began to curl around his legs, whining for attention. He gave her a scratch behind the ear. “Do I have to come?”

“You do. It was your idea.”

“Havelock’s idea,” Corvo muttered grimly.

“I meant allying with the conspiracy, was your idea. You’ve got us this far, what’s a party after everything?” Daud studied him. His brows suddenly furrowed, surprised by whatever he saw on Corvo’s face. “You’re nervous.”

“Course I am,” Corvo bit back. “I don’t like nobles.”

“Few do.”

“And I don’t know how to act, or talk. Or dance.”

“There won’t be dancing, Corvo,” Daud told him, amused. “It isn’t a ball, despite what the masks might imply.”

“See? I didn’t even know that.”

Daud paced forwards until they were stood head to head. He took Corvo's chin in his hand, tilting it up just so. "Head up, like this." Then he took his shoulders, pushing gently. "Shoulders back, as Pendleton does. As though everyone else is beneath you."

Corvo did smile a little at that. "What next?"

"Then, you must say, _Wallace, bring me the wine_."

Corvo shoved him away with a surprised chuckle. "Don't make jokes. You're not going to make me laugh–"

“Now say, _this isn't the vintage I asked for, you halfwit ox_ –"

"Stop trying to cheer me up."

Esma circled around them, confused by their mirth. Eventually, Daud took one of Corvo’s hands, and pressed his lips fondly against the backs of his fingers.

“You’ve got us this far,” he repeated. “And the troublemaker will be disappointed if you don’t go. I believe you promised to report every detail of the party for her.”

Corvo softened at the man’s chosen nickname for Emily. He had spied on the training sessions that had followed their first, and in the past few days, he’d watched Emily grow more confident around Daud, and vice versa. Confident enough to start arguing over techniques while they sparred.

There was no sign of forgiveness on Emily’s part, and Daud still had the same tightness in his shoulders when he first laid eyes on her. But there was some kind of trust between them now, the start of an accord, and Daud had clearly begun to care for the girl.

“Suppose you’re right.”

Daud grunted that he usually was, his own hands coming to rest around Corvo’s waist. His thumbs slid under the edge of his shirt, grazing against the skin underneath. Corvo leaned up and pressed their lips together. Then he cupped Daud's jaw, coaxing him down for a deeper kiss.

After a few moments of indulgence, Corvo felt Daud tug him forward, closer against him. Esma huffed through her snout, and lay down by the bookcase after seeing she'd been forgotten about.

“They’re still–” Corvo was cut off by another kiss. “They’re still outside. They’ll be coming back in.”

“Not yet,” Daud pled against Corvo’s jaw as he mouthed along it. “Let me have what I can, while I have you to myself.”

Corvo shivered at the roughness of his voice, and kissed back with more fervour, allowing his fingers to run beneath the coat, down the length of Daud’s shirt.

When Daud’s teeth reached his neck, gently nipping along his skin, Corvo found his voice again. “I’m sorry we haven’t had much time. When this is over–”

“We both knew the conspiracy would take priority. I told you, I’m with you however long this takes.”

Corvo pulled back far enough to meet Daud’s gaze. “When it’s over, we’ll have more time.”

“So sure about everything.”

“We will. We’re almost finished.”

Daud gave a pensive hum. Two fingers tapped against Corvo’s hip, teasing. “Just an unpleasant party to get you through, hm?”

Corvo grimaced, and continued to until Daud’s kisses chased the expression away. He was just considering hopping up onto the desk, so Daud could settle between his legs, when the office doors opened once again.

“Pack it in, both of you,” Rulfio chided as he walked towards them, with Thomas in tow. “You’ll have plenty of time for all that once you’ve freed the city from a tyrant.”

“He thinks it's so straightforward,” Daud muttered sourly, so only Corvo could hear. Corvo gave him a nudge with his knee, and Daud released him. “Get rid of the pests at last, did you?”

“Oh, hush.” Rulfio returned to the chest of trinkets, beginning to put everything away now Corvo had selected their masks. “Only _I’m_ allowed to call them pests. I’m the one who has to deal with them.”

Daud grumbled a reply and stalked over to join him, the two starting to bicker about something. It was good, Corvo thought, to see the two back on common ground. The mood between them was easier, since the ordeal with Delilah had been done with.

Esma's ears perked up, noticing suddenly that Daud had moved, and she trotted across the room to join him.

Corvo grabbed the stag’s mask and handed it to Thomas. “This is yours.”

The Whaler, too, looked a fine sight in his chosen attire. His hair was slicked back as well, a stark contrast to its usual unkempt state.

Thomas looked the mask over with a nod. “You’re not dressed yet?”

“Haven’t chosen anything. Wish I could just go like this.”

The Whaler offered him a small, rare smile. “I know how you feel. This whole acting like a noble business is a little daunting.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“They say the Boyles are the height of class and sophistication in Dunwall,” Thomas mused. “We’ll fit right in, I’m sure.”

Corvo gave a smile of his own at the Whaler’s scepticism. “They’ll throw us out of the manor.”

“They probably will. Arden’s bet fifty coin that we don’t last until midnight.”

“I’ll raise him to a hundred that we don’t make it to the foyer.”

“Being cynical again? What a bloody surprise.” Rulfio crossed the room, elbowing Corvo as he passed him by, “Come on, then, with me. We still have to find some clothes for you, and sort out that mop you call hair. Outsider knows how long that will take.”

The Whaler shot a grin at Daud over his shoulder, motioning between the chest and the various masks strewn about the office. “You don’t mind clearing up the rest of this, do you? There’s a good man.”

Daud sneered at him. “You’ve become far too used to giving orders while I’ve been gone.”

Rulfio ushered Corvo merrily towards the doors. “You know, Attano, if you thought the masks were bad, wait until you see the collection of suits Yuri stole a few years back. Some of the frilliest abominations I’ve ever seen.”

Corvo hoped the ground swallowed him before they reached the dormitories.


End file.
